


Return

by Zoadgo



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional pain, M/M, Post 2x08, not really shippy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 03:01:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2797181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoadgo/pseuds/Zoadgo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"all I can think of is murphy telling himself over and over again that he was an idiot, and I want someone to wrap him in a warm blanket and give him some hot chocolate. "</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>No one came back for him.</p>
<p>Murphy should be used to it. He should have expected this, known that the betrayal was coming, known that none of them would ever accept him. There’s a pattern to everything in life, and the pattern in Murphy’s is that he will always get fucked over by anyone he trusts. So why the fuck does everything hurt so much?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Return

No one came back for him.

Murphy should be used to it. He should have expected this, known that the betrayal was coming, known that none of them would ever accept him. There’s a pattern to everything in life, and the pattern in Murphy’s is that he will always get fucked over by anyone he trusts. So why the fuck does everything hurt so much?

When Raven had revealed her brilliant plan, Murphy had stepped up to her gun. Not because he has a death wish, although he sort of does now, but because her casually suggesting they sacrifice him in order to save someone who had murdered 18 innocent people hurt more than any bullet ever could. And Murphy can say that with confidence, because he’s been tortured before. But that faint hint of hope, a glimmer of some form of redemption and trust being taken away from him? Fuck, he wouldn’t have given a shit if the Grounders had used him as a pinata at that point.

He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of seeing him break down, though. So he’d fought back tears, even though they burned in his eyes like acid. He knows he didn’t do a good job of concealing things - even he could hear how his voice croaked when he spoke - but they were all so focused on Spacewalker that no one noticed. Even if they had noticed, would any of them have cared?

“Of course not, you idiot.” His voice is a harsh rasp as he scrubs away tears that refuse to stop falling. Ever since he’d passed the hatch he’d been unable to get himself under control. “Why would anyone care about you? Stupid to think they could ever want you around.”

He sniffs and glances through blurred vision at the trees, blackened stumps giving way to healthy green. There’s no more Grounders out there, he knows that. He’d heard them shouting, heard Raven and Clarke crying over that asshole who was just perfect for the both of them. He’d watched them pass right beneath the hole in the side of the dropship, Bellamy herding them along like a bulldog taking care of pups.

No one came back for him.

So Murphy curls up on the cold metal floor and cries. He cries for his father, taken from him by the very government that just gave him a second lease on life. He cries for his mother, tortured and warped by moonshine the same way he’d been fucked up by the Grounders. For the people he’d killed, their names fading more with every day, and for their graves that were destroyed in the last battle. Hell, he even cries for Spacewalker - _Finn_ \- because he knows that what he experienced at the hands of the Grounders is nothing compared to what they’ll do to a murderer or their kind.

And when Murphy’s done crying for everyone else, he cries for himself. For the void within him that he’d tried to fill with cruelty and realized too late could only be filled with companionship. He cries because his only friend, Mbege, was killed and Murphy never got to say goodbye. The only other person who he could ever see himself being friends with, simply because she was the only one who would talk to him, had just pointed a gun at him and offered his life as if it were nothing.

Murphy doesn’t know when he falls asleep, but he wakes up aching and cold, with fresh tears on his face. His emotional pain has only been amplified by the physical, but he forces himself to sit up with a sniffle. Outside the dropship, night has fallen. Night comes quickly, here, and Murphy hates it. Nothing good ever happens to him at night.

“You don’t deserve anything good. You’re such an idiot. Let yourself get attached again. You knew this would happen.” He doesn’t care if there’s Grounders in the trees, coming to kill him. God, he doesn’t care about anything right now.

Except that’s a lie. He just wishes he didn’t care about anything. Murphy would love to care as little as he pretends to, but it’s just not who he is. Sure, he’s a dick, but he’s still a human. At the end of the day, he wants to have someone he can talk to, someone who will be there for him. Someone who will remember that he’s still on guard at the abandoned scene of a confrontation. Maybe he’ll die up here, with no one ever wondering where he is. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

No more tears fall from Murphy’s eyes, but he doesn’t feel any better. Instead of the razor sharp bite of betrayal, he’s left with a vortex of grief that threatens with every second to pull him deeper and deeper into himself, until there’s nothing left of him. And with every second that passes alone, Murphy wants to let it.

“Idiot.” He whispers to himself one last time, before resigning himself completely to mourning all that he’s done, and all that he will never do.

“No one gets to call you that but me.” The voice behind Murphy almost makes him jump. As is, the gruff baritone manages to pull him slightly back towards the side of the living.

“Doesn’t change the facts.” Murphy stares straight ahead, not wanting Bellamy to see the signs of his weakness written across his face. He hopes Bellamy will just go away, like everyone else. He can’t find it in himself to pretend anymore, to act like things don’t bother him, like he’s got everything under control.

Murphy listens to the shift of fabric as Bellamy approaches him, and he makes no move to greet or shoo away the newcomer. He craves interaction, for his existence to be acknowledged, but he also wants to be left alone with his agony. So he settles for doing nothing at all, until a heavy warmth settles around his shoulders. Murphy looks up at Bellamy in surprise, gathering the blanket reflexively around a body that he hadn’t realized had gotten that cold.

“You are one of us, you know that, right?” Bellamy stares into Murphy’s eyes, as if he’s trying to draw the truth out of him with a gaze. He needn’t worry, Murphy’s not in the lying mood today.

“Of course I’m not.” _Now go away._

“Why would you say that? I know we’ve had… difficulties in the past, but I think we can all agree to move forward.” 

“Move forward?” Anger sparks life within Murphy once again, and he stands facing Bellamy, blanket drawn around his shoulders like armour. “Were we moving forward when Raven wanted to kill me? How about when you all left, leaving me here alone? Were we ‘moving forward’ then?”

Despite Murphy’s rage, Bellamy steps forward, grabbing Murphy’s chin in a strong but not bruising grip. His brow furrows as he stares at Murphy like a puzzle, and Murphy grits his teeth in frustration. The only reason he doesn’t throw Bellamy off completely is that, aside from his medical exam, the last person to touch him voluntarily was the Grounder in charge of torturing him.

“Were you crying?” And then Murphy does smack his arm away, turning from Bellamy and sitting down heavily, feet dangling over the edge of the hole he’d blown in the dropship.

“And if I was? Is that a punishable offense now, too?” Murphy fully expects Bellamy to leave, or yell at him, or hit him. After all, even when he watches what he says, Murphy gets in trouble.

But Bellamy does none of that, doesn’t even speak. He moves quietly, sitting next to Murphy. And god, having someone next to him is amazing.

“Idiot.” The whisper is so quiet as to be barely audible, Murphy reminding himself of the pain he suffered just hours ago. Bellamy doesn’t react to it, so they sit in silence for a long time, Murphy waiting for whatever terrible thing is due him to occur.

In the end, he falls asleep again. This time, though, he wakes up warm and comfortable. He shifts slightly, drawing a grumble from the person that he unintentionally digs a bony shoulder into. Blinking the remnants of dreams from his eyes, Murphy squints at Bellamy’s slumbering form. The form he had been using as a pillow just moments before.

Bellamy hadn’t left him. He could have gone after Murphy fell asleep, could have run back to the other camp. But he stayed with Murphy when he didn’t need to. It doesn’t come close to making up for everything that’s been done to him, but not waking up alone or in pain is one of the most amazing experiences of Murphy’s life. And in the end, one thing changes Murphy’s mood definitively for the better.

Someone came back for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this hurt me. Actually, that episode hurt me. I mean, don't get me wrong, it was freaking amazing, but what they did to Murphy was not cool. This doesn't make it better, but it's a start, huh? Thanks to [coldsaturn](http://coldsaturn.tumblr.com), sorry for making everything worse in the beginning.
> 
> Come cry with me [on tumblr!](http://jonnmurphy.tumblr.com) Thanks in advance for commenting/viewing/leaving kudos <3


End file.
